Black Poetry : As We Lay

Ceiling fan blades move quietly above our bed
We stare at its moving shadow
The breeze fails to cool us

We've burned through the sheets
A sweet, sweet burn
Now we rest
As we lay

Our breathing syncronized
An unconscious attempt to continue our glorious rhythm
A rhythm we never want to end
But the heated rush could not be contained
The multiple explosions too natural
Too intense

We smile in love's afterglow
Shoulder to shoulder
Thigh to thigh
In the heat of the day
As we lay